


Sparkle

by Sophia_Bee



Category: Gossip Girl (TV 2007)
Genre: Angst, Dark, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:00:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21607177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophia_Bee/pseuds/Sophia_Bee
Summary: Original Summary: Blair struggles with her own internal demons and her own shame, and it leads her to make a drastic decision. Blair POV, very dark. Multiple chapters.
Relationships: Dan Humphrey/Blair Waldorf
Comments: 1
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Uploading my old Dair fic to AO3, original publish date: 4/27/2012

Sometimes Blair thinks she is devoid of any sparkle. She is dark and twisted deep inside, a black hole of nothingness. She covers herself in jewels and sequins, beading extraordinaire, as if sparkling enough on the outside will cover up what she lacks on the inside. She smiles brightly, the fakest jewel of all.

Dan tells her she sparkles, that she outshines everyone on in the room. Blair wishes she could see the same person he sees but every time she looks in the mirror the darkness is still there, lurking behind her eyes.

She wants to shine, from her skin to her lips, to the eye shadow she smears across her lids before she goes out. She wants to shimmer, to glow so no one will notice that inside she's nothing but darkness.

...this is who you are...

Chuck's voice echoes in her head and she wants to tell it to shut up, to get the fuck out of her life, but it's there, in the middle of the night when she wakes up, confused, disoriented, not knowing where she is, until she slowly realizes that she's at the loft and Dan's next to her, breathing heavily, and she should feel safe, but that voice is still there.

...come back to me...

He is always there, across the room, staring at her with that intense gaze, the one that eats through all the superficial layers and sees down to her core, the part of her that she works so hard to hide from the world. Blair wishes he would just let her go, cut those ties that bind her to him, but he won't. He won't move on, just watches her, waiting for the blackness to well up from under her shell, to leak out of the cracks that are always forming, and then Dan will realize who she is and he will walk away. Chuck's gaze hold promise that he will always be there, always there to pick up the pieces to put her back together in whatever form he envisions.

...you are mine...

Blair wants to tell him that she's not his, that she never was, that she belongs only to herself, but part of her thinks that maybe he is right. Maybe the only person in the world who could even like who she really is could be someone just as twisted up on the inside.

Dan loves her. He's never said those words but she knows it. She's known it from the moment of the revelation, those words that slipped out in front of an entire audience, but Blair didn't care, because at that moment she knew they were true.

...Dan loves me for me...

Sometimes she looks up and finds him watching her, and it's some strange, random moment in life, no big romantic gesture, no declaration standing in the rain, just a moment. Sometimes it's between bites of pasta at their favorite Italian restaurant or while she's reading a book and glances over the top of it to find his eyes just watching her, or when she walks into his bedroom with a towel wrapped around her, her skin damp from the shower, and she sees it in his eyes. The love, the adoration, the boy who worships the ground she walks on, the one who tells her in so many ways that nothing about her can be horrible, because he loves everything, every part.

Blair thinks he doesn't really love every part, he just hasn't seen the dark parts yet.

It's those moments that Blair should run into his arms, should tell him what lurks in the back of her mind, what has lodged itself in her heart. It's those moments that she should open her lips and let the words come out, the ones that she has said to other boys in the past, the ones that have left her open and shattered and scarred, but this boy, this one will not hurt her, and she knows this without a doubt.

Still, she is not sparkly and even though she knows he loves her, she doesn't think he really should, because that would mean he loves the parts that even Blair herself has not found a way to love, and who can love someone who can't even love themself? Even though she loves him and he loves her, Blair has still not found a way to believe that this is something real and not just another layer of shine and gloss she's applied to her life in order to keep up her carefully cultivated facade.

No one can live properly when they're waiting for everything to come crashing down.

That's what Chuck tells her, what he whispers into her ear as he leans against the bar at parties, and Blair stares straight ahead and never answers him because she has nothing to say.

...I'll pick up the pieces...

It's a promise, a vow, that no matter how far she sinks, he will always be there. He will always sink even further. Because they are chuckandblairblairandchuck, and he tells her she can never be anything more or anything less. Except Chuck doesn't know the truth. There will be nothing left to pick up when this is over. Blair has been destroyed enough times to know that nothing lasts forever and she's positive that if...no, when...Dan walks away, she's going to implode, to finally become the empty shell of a person that she tries to hide from everyone. The darkness will finally spread everywhere and she's not even sure if she could keep up the sparkle on the outside as well.

...you will destroy me...

Blair whispers this breathlessly with Dan inside her and his face is buried in the crook of her neck and her hands are tangled in his hair, and it's the only time she can tell him the truth. The truth that what they have will end with her in a million jagged little pieces of nothingness and she can't see any other option, and she can't walk away because the end result is the same either way, and Blair is entirely trapped. Trapped by love. It almost makes her laugh. Instead she cries.

Louis had told Blair to smile for the cameras, and she still does this. She smiles when Dan walks into the room, when he takes her arm, when he kisses her on the cheek. She plays the game, the role of the perfect girlfriend and Dan looks so happy that she knows he doesn't think anything is wrong.

So much is wrong.

Blair has done this for years. She smiles. She is standing next to her mother who is prattling on about her summer in Lyon and Blair's perfect grades and how she's going to Yale and all Blair can do is smile and think how close the nearest bathroom might be because all she really wants is to stick a finger down her throat and feel the relief that vomiting up the two desserts she ate at dinner will bring. She smiles and tells Serena she is so happy for her as yet another thing Blair had wanted falls into Serena's lap with just a flick of her beautiful mane of hair and a simple easy-going smile, even though all she wants to do is run home and bury herself in the safety of her bed and cry. She smiles as she steps out and faces a world that knows her boyfriend was willing to whore her out for his empire, that she's has been given a price, a marketable value. She smiles now, despite feeling small and out of sorts and entirely unworthy in this world, what feels like a lifetime piling up around her of shame and self-hatred.

Blair doesn't know how to stop the cycle.

She's doing what she's always done. She did it with Nate, always needing presents and reassurance. She did it with Chuck, needing games and manipulations. She did it with Louis, needing a crown and a title. Now she does it with Dan, but she's not even sure what she's doing anymore or why she's doing it. Putting on a show, pretending to be someone she's not, has become reflex, like breathing, something she does because it's the only way she feels alive.

She starts to crack around the edges.

The whispering won't leave her alone, the voices telling her over and over that she's worthless. Chuck's words swirl in her head and some days Blair has no idea how to stop them.

Sometimes she wants to hurt Dan. Hurt him in a way that is permanent, a way that she thinks will end everything and he'll finally decide he's had enough, that even love isn't worth putting up with Blair Waldorf, and he'll walk away and then she can finally let all the pretend sparkle go, because if he already hates her, how could he hate her even more. Then she can finally show him who she really is. If she hurts him she can prove to herself that she was never worth his love in the first place. How odd that she loves Dan so much that she needs him to hate her.

Blair is trapped, feeling like a caged animal and Dan notices that something is wrong, and he asks her one night, his hand stroking her arm tenderly and Blair feels the tears start to well up. She almost tells him, as she stares into his eyes that are filled with concern and love and suddenly she wants nothing between them anymore. Suddenly she wants him to know that she is a liar and a cheat, that she has somehow convinced the world that she's strong and successful when she's really almost dead inside. Instead she smiles and tells him she's feeling just a little out of sorts, and maybe it's a cold or something, and Dan kisses her and the next day he plies her with hot lemon and honey and makes her sit on the couch under a blanket and Blair thinks she might actually feel a little sick with the amount of unworthiness she feels.

She has to do something, has to break out of this cycle, and one morning she wakes up and Dan is snoring softly next to her, his arm draped around her waist, and Blair has a moment of clarity and suddenly she can see everything she needs to do, and while it should make her happy and feel free, all it does is make her cry.

Dan wakes up and finds her sobbing silently and he pushes himself up on his elbows and traces the paths that the tears have made down her cheeks, then leans down and kisses them away, and this makes Blair cry even harder. How is it fair for her to love him this much?

She wishes he'd been someone else, someone callous and calculating, someone who could just let her be who she is, let her live devoid of sparkle, let her maintain the facade, but he isn't. He has gotten under her skin, mined deep into her soul, he has dwelled inside of her and become part of her, and in the process she has realized how empty she really is, and now she can only live in fear of the moment that he realizes this and walks away.

Blair makes the phone call that day. She gets everything set up. The money is transferred. The plan is set in motion. There is one thing left to do.

She does it that night, ordering Dan's favorite take out and setting out candles on all surfaces of the loft, surely a significant fire hazard. She fills the room with flowers and picks out his favorite music. When he comes home from his classes, Blair answers the door in sexy, expensive, shiny satin lingerie and they don't even eat the dinner or light the candles because Dan's mouth is crushing hers and she's frantically pulling at the buttons on his flannel shirt, trying to find his skin under her fingers, and they are both sliding to the floor because it's become clear they won't make it to the bedroom this time. Dan pulls off his pants and Blair is tugging at her lingerie and wondering why she picked something with so many buttons, then Dan's fingers are slipping under the panties and he is moaning something about how wet she is into her ear, and his fingers find her clit and Blair bites her lip.

This is not how things are supposed to go, so with great effort Blair pulls his hand away and pushes him down onto the hardwood floor, finally manages to undo her undergarment, and then lowers herself onto him and watches his eyes flutter shut. She moves her hips, pressing toward him then back, again and again, pushing against him, and his hands come up and find her breasts, covering them, pinching a nipple, then she's moaning right along with him and just as she starts to feel tight and really good she leans down and says what she was planning to say all along, the whole reason she decided to surprise him, what she had intended to say after a good dinner and wine, with the candles lighting up the room, in a big romantic gesture.

...I love you...

HIs eyes fly open and Blair pushes down hard and he can't say anything back because his hips buck and he comes with her name on his lips.

...Blair...

...I love you too...

Afterward they lie in his bed and Dan is happy, smiling, playing with her hair, kissing her over and over, and it almost makes Blair want to cry because he doesn't know that she's done the cruelest thing of all, and maybe she shouldn't have even done this. But she needed to, needed him to know that he wasn't like all the others, that he was special, and that was why she needed to tell him that one thing before she left, to give him something so he wouldn't be left wondering if he was anything more entertainment. And that was why she couldn't stay, because it was only a matter of time before he realized that loving Blair Waldorf was a sort of curse.

She also needed to make the deepest cut, a wound that cannot be recovered from, because Dan deserves so much better and if she doesn't hurt him enough she knows he will never move on and her plan won't work. She needs him to hate her so she can set him free.

Blair waits until he's asleep before she steals out of his bed. She knows she should hurry, but instead she stands in the dark room and stares down at him, memorizing the way he looks as he sleeps, thinking that this will be the last time she sees him.

Blair pulls on the clothes she'd put in the bathroom earlier. She finds her raincoat and heads downstairs, pulling the loft door shut for the last time. The town car is at the curb and the driver is too professional to ask questions, just nods when she tells him to take her to the airport.

Blair has decided that the darkness will not win this time but the only way to defeat it is to make sure no one can ever find it. So she is leaving, and someday she hope Dan will be able to understand that this is the only way she can survive. Blair Waldorf has realized that she isn't meant to love someone the way she loves Dan without hurting him, that loving her is a curse, that she will never be able to defeat the darkness, and the only thing to do is to run away.

Chuck was right. This is who she is. Twisted and dark and devoid of any sparkle.

She stares out the window as the lights of the city flash by, blurred by the tears that won't stop. Somewhere people are getting up and getting ready for the day, or coming home to warm beds. They are not like her. They are not adrift in the world but anchored to home and family, to jobs, to friends. They sparkle and shine with each other, full of love and friendship. They belong. Belong to each other.

Blair doesn't belong anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

Blair has learned that she doesn't like big, romantic gestures.

She sits at the window and watches the rain hit the panes. It's cold here, and she pulls the heavy sweater she's draped over her shoulder even tighter as she stares out into the gray morning.

She wishes she could sleep, wishes her eyelids would be able to fall shut and she could drift away into the darkness, but she can't. Even when she does manage to close her eyes, the nightmares start, and he's there with her, and she can feel his hands, and Blair jerks awake with his name on her lips and she hates herself. So she doesn't sleep, stays up, sitting in the chair by the window, staring out, drinking cup after cup of strong coffee.

She's had a lot of big romantic gestures in her life. Chuck was overly prone to them, sending her chocolates and flowers and things from foreign countries that glittered and sparkled. Nate trying to make up for his transgressions with Serena, sending her present after present. All those boys who wanted to court Queen B, and while she liked that their gifts said that she was worth it, they were ultimately meaningless. They never healed the wounds she carried with her.

Blair walks the streets at night, the street lamps shining on the wet pavement, wrapping her raincoat tightly around her to keep herself warm. She sees the prostitutes on the corners flicking their hands, emaciated bodies dressed in short skirts and fur jackets, harsh faces lit by the street lamps, waiting for their tricks to pull up, slinking into open car doors. She glances at the addicts lurking in doorways, slumping in corners, numbed to the world. She feels a kinship with the people who populate the streets at night, maybe even a jealously. Their lives seem clearer than hers, more defined. She splashes through puddles and envies them, then returns to the cold apartment with its drafty windows and watches the rain some more.

She doesn't like big, romantic gestures, but she still sits in that chair every day, and if she's not gazing out the window she's watching the door, waiting for it to crack open, waiting to see him on the other side.

Blair imagines what he would look like, hair dark and falling in his eyes, face drawn and pale, and he'd be skinny because he'd been pining for her, searching for her. He would sweep into the room and take her into his arms and everything would be okay. He would tell her that even though she hurt him, he loves her and will always love her, no matter who she is, no matter what she has become.

...fool...

The word echoes through her dreams and haunts her when she's awake.

No one comes when you make a cut as deep as she made.

The only person she sees is the cleaning lady who comes every day to pick up the half emptied coffee cups Blair leaves around the apartment, and still she has this strange hope every time she hears the door knob turn, followed by an acute sense of disappointment.

No one is coming.

They will look for her in Paris. They'll search Spain. All the places Blair Waldorf would go. They will scour the four star hotels and the beachside resorts. They will look in all the usual places and then they will give up. Because when Blair left New York she decided she didn't want to be found. They won't look in Prague.

No one will ever come.

This was supposed to make things better, to hold back the darkness, but everything feels worse. She's even more twisted up on the inside, and alone. So alone.

Blair doesn't eat. The cleaning lady leaves bread and cheese on the counter, an act of pity for the poor American who is so sad, and they sit untouched. She wishes she felt hungry because it would mean she feels something, but she never does. Only the overcaffeinated shaking that she remedies by drinking yet another cup of strong, black coffee, the liquid burning her tongue and Blair doesn't care. She doesn't care about much anymore.

Sometimes she thinks she might open her laptop, sit down and write an email, maybe to Nate, who was possibly the last safe person left in her life. She would ask how things are at home. Ask how her mother is doing. She would swear him to secrecy. If she got up enough courage, she might ask about Dan.

How is he doing?

Is he seeing other people?

Does he talk about her?

She doesn't know why she wants him to care so much. Leaving wasn't about being followed. If that had been the goal she wouldn't have disappeared to effectively, gone in one night. No forwarding address, her phone disconnected. Maybe she wants him to care because that means she still exists. Otherwise she feels like she's starting to disappear entirely. Without the people around her to define her, Blair isn't sure she's actually still here.

Days blend into each other and she's not sure if it's day or night anymore. The laptop just sits on the table, unopened, and Blair sits by the window, watching the the rain, blinking in the sunlight, the sweater wrapped around her, not sure if she's slept or not, ignoring the worried look the maid gives her, not touching the pastries or bread and cheese she leaves on the counter. She gets thinner and feels like a husk of her former self, like something that could dry up and blow away and no one would notice.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Leaving was supposed to bring peace and closure. Walking away was supposed to let her go, but Blair feels more trapped than she ever has before. She's stuck, not be able to go back, not being able to go forward. Its self-imposed limbo. She was supposed to set Dan free and in the process free herself, but the shackles of Blair Waldorf feel heavier than ever.

Blair has tried to escape and she's discovered that she's more trapped than ever.

When she does sleep her darkness threatens to swallow her up entirely and she's afraid that she's going to wake up and anything that was decent will be entirely gone and there will be no hope that the sparkle can be found ever again.

Blair is starting to understand that running away from her dark side has only plunged her fully into it.

She is sitting at the window again one day, staring out into the grayness that she never really sees anymore, the same oppressive melancholy weighing her down when she hears the knock on the door. It's a gentle tap-tap-tapping, and Blair realizes that no one knocks on the door. Even the maid lets herself in with a set of keys and doesn't glance Blair's way as she sets the bag of groceries down along with the bucket filled with rags and cleaning supplies.

The door taps again and Blair stares at it, as if it's come alive, like some awful scene in a horror movie, and she wonders if the hallucinations have finally started, if she has actually truly gone crazy, if this is where it all ends, with her gone mad, hair matted, emaciated, wandering the streets of Prague, the poor little rich girl.

Finally she moves, standing up and noticing how her bones ache from the damp and the cold. She makes her way across the room, hugging the sweater tighter around her, shivering a little. Her hand grips the door knob and its cold on her palm, then she slowly twists it.

Maybe it will be him. She thinks of those grand romantic gestures she has grown to despise, but maybe this one will be okay. Because Blair is slowly drowning and as she stands there with her hand on the doorknob she starts to realize that she cannot do this alone, she cannot end the darkness by running away. She realizes that she needs him, and maybe he will be on the other side of the door, maybe he will have found her.

She pulls the door open, his name on her lips, ready to see his face, his eyes that will widen with concern, and any anger he has at her leaving will slip away, and Blair knows she will fall into his arms because she needs him. When the door is finally open, she just stands there, swaying a little, and she can't speak and she's not sure if she can even breathe, because the person on the other side of the door is entirely unexpected.

He is long and sleek and dressed perfectly as always, suit and tie neat and pressed. He leans in the doorway, hands in his pockets, watching her carefully, his eyes running up and down her slight figure, and then he smiles in a way that makes her skin crawl a little,

…I told you I'd always be here to pick up the pieces...

He almost purrs and she finally is able to say his name, although it's almost a hiss because all she can feel her rage boiling up inside. This was not part of the plan. If she was going to be found, it wasn't going to be him.

Chuck slides into the room, smooth as always, and Blair takes a step backwards, to accomodate him, to protect herself, she doesn't really know. He drifts around the room, taking in the simply furnishings, the mug of cold coffee sitting on the table. He shivers a little and asks if she ever bothers to turn up the heat. Blair says nothing.

...an impressive exercise in symbolic self-flagellation, Blair...

Blair crosses her arms around her chest. She says nothing. Chuck stops at the window and gazes out on the scene she has watched for weeks now, the gray buildings, the rain dripping down, running into the street, the people passing by with umbrellas, huddled against the weather. He says something about being impressed that she'd chosen Prague, the perfect combination of Old World Charm and debauchery, then turns back to her.

...he asked me to find you, you know...

Blair blinks. She didn't know. How would she know. She'd never even thought that Dan would want to find her, not after telling him that she loved him, telling him the only thing that felt remotely bright and sparkly inside her, then walking away and leaving him and destroying the only thing that was good. Why would he want to find her? Why would anyone with any decency?

Chuck tells her that he was positive she was somewhere in Eastern Europe at that point, but he wasn't about to tell this to Humdrum Humphrey, and again he tells her that she's supposed to be with him, not with some sad flash in the pan writer from Brooklyn who doesn't even know the real Blair Waldorf.

...you had him fooled, my love...

Blair still says nothing, but she wants to scream at Chuck as she stands there all smug, like he's finally won the game. She wants to tell him that she stopped being a prize he can just win when she realized that her heart no longer belonged to him, but he wouldn't listen then and he won't listen now. Chuck is still caught up in the world of Meant to Be and he is still making her the victim of this fantasy.

...he really thought you were someone decent...

Chuck tells her that he knows differently. That he knows her, from the inside out, and he's come to set her free to be who she really is. There is nothing in there way now. No royal marriage, no Dan mooning about. She has severed that tie, and now they can finally rule together, the way it was meant to be. The prince and princess of darkness, and no one will be able to withstand the power they have together.

...we are finally equal...

This was never the kind of equality she wanted.

They are the same, mirror images of each other, darkness combined with darkness to make an eternal black hole and Blair feels overwhelmed and sad and she cannot move as Chuck crossed the room toward her, stopping just in front of her, his hand coming out to caress her jaw. Blair's lips tremble, and she sees satisfaction in his eyes that he can still affect her so physically, not realizing that what he's seeing is fear, not desire

He is so close and she can feel the heat of his body, smell his expensive cologne and the hair gel he slathers on every day. His hand is touching hers and it sears her skin, then he's leaning forward and his lips are on hers, and Blair closes her eyes and then the tears start to slip down her cheeks.


	3. Chapter 3

Kissing Chuck is familiar.

His mouth moves on hers with force, crushing her, his tongue invading her mouth and Blair feels like she is choking.

Her hands come up to Chuck's chest and instead of gripping his shirt, she pushes at him and he responds by pulling her more tightly to his chest and Blair thinks fleetingly that Chuck has always enjoyed a good fight. One of his hands is gripping her hair and he is holding her there, not letting her move her head away.

...no...

She does not want this.

Blair may have wanted this in the past, may have dreamed of the day that she and Chuck would be free to be with each other, to kiss without anything hanging over their heads, and now the day had arrived and Blair realizes that the moment has actually passed, slipped away, and she never even noticed it.

You don't notice that you've lost something when you've never had it in the first place.

She could go back, rewind and repeat, go back to being Chuck's girlfriend, the arm candy of the powerful boy wonder, the prize at the bottom of the box, and Chuck could wear her like the victor wears the spoils looted from battle, and she could smile and pretend she wasn't still empty inside. She could do this, could let go of the idea that Blair Waldorf deserves something for herself, rewind and repeat being Chuck's and Chuck's alone.

Blair pushes at his chest again, and she's not kissing him back but Chuck hasn't noticed.

She wants this to be a different moment, a different boy, a different place, a different time. She wants to be kissing someone else, someone who doesn't make the darkness in her swell, and in this moment she realizes that maybe everything isn't as bad as she thought. As Chuck kisses her Blair starts to see that there is something still there, buried inside, something that shines through the darkness, a beacon, something that says that Blair Waldorf is worth more.

...hope...

There is hope, and she feels like she wants to cry.

Finally Chuck breaks away from her and he leans in close and whispers, and his breath smells like mint and alcohol, and Blair closes her eyes.

...I've missed you so much...

His voice is smooth, his eyes are closed too and his cheek is cool against hers and Chuck hasn't even noticed that she's crying, or if he has, maybe he thinks it's from happiness, and Blair shatters all of that in the next moment as she whispers into his ear.

...I won't do this again...

Chuck pulls back and looks at her, his eyes quickly transitioning from surprise to anger, and he doesn't even ask her what she means, just spits out out a harsh 'no' that makes Blair recoil. His hands go to her wrists and their grip tightens and Blair winces because he is hurting her.

...what the hell, Blair...

Blair just stares at him and tries to find the words to tell him that she doesn't love him. He stares back, silent, intense and as much as she wants to turn her head and look away, she doesn't. She just locks her eyes with his and will not let him intimidate her, will not allow him to force her to back down. She's done this one too many times and she won't do it now.

...I don't belong to you...

Blair whispers the words, still staring at him, her voice cracking and she feels like she's about to break down, about to collapse onto the floor, but she somehow remains standing, inches separating her from Chuck, his hands still gripping her wrists. He sneers at her.

...you're wrong, Blair...

...you are mine...

...you always will be...

He's said this before, so many times that she had become accustomed to the idea that there is part of her that does not belong to herself, that is forever tied to Chuck Bass, but this time when he says those words she almost laughs.

...nothing of me belongs to you...

...no part of me belongs to anyone...

She is not a possession.

At some point in the last year, and she'll never be able to actually pinpoint the moment, between losing her baby and marrying Louis, Blair had been set free from the concept that someone actually owned her, that her heart and her soul could belong to another person. That was one good thing that had come out of so much pain. It was one good thing that Dan had shown her. She just wished she'd been able to see it before now.

...he never wanted to own me...

Chuck sneers again and laughs, then he says 'Humphrey' in that disdainful, dismissive way that is so familiar, and he releases both her hands and steps away. Blair rubs her wrists and wonders if there will be bruises tomorrow, and she stares at Chuck as he runs a hand through his hair and looks around the room, talking almost to himself.

...How did this happen...

...How did he win over me...

Blair wants to tell him that no one won because there was never a contest. She just started to realize that some people in this world are good, even when they make bad choices, even when they hurt you, they are good people, and those are the people who can finally make you whole, but she doesn't say this because all of the sudden she realizes what she walked away from. All of the sudden she misses Dan with a ferocity that physically hurts and she realizes that she's had it wrong all along.

It was never about whether or not she sparkled.

Blair had felt so dark for so long that she'd lost sight of what really matters. She thought it was about the lightness eclipsing the dark, or the darkness taking over, and now that Chuck is here and telling her that she could let go of all those dichotomies, that she could simply be who she was, who she was destined to be, that she can give into the darkness, everything suddenly seems so clear.

There is a new energy when she turns to Chuck again, a steeliness that she's never felt before and Blair tells him that he has it all wrong.

...you are my yesterday...

He stares at her, digesting her words, and she can tell that they sting from the way that he flinches slightly, and she knows they are true. How often have they actually told each other the truth?

She cannot stop, cannot hold back anything now, because she has been split open and laid out for everyone to see, but mainly for herself, and try as hard as she might, she cannot turn away anymore, and after something like that, there is nothing left to hide.

I have been a fool, she tells Chuck, and I have been a fool for too long. What we had, this love, this idea that somehow we are destined, that we belong to each other, it's a lie and it's been a lie for a long time.

His mouth is open and he reminds her of a fish gasping for air, and maybe she is sucking all the oxygen out of the room with her words and for the first time Chuck is finding it hard to breathe. She doesn't tell him that he's made it hard for her to breathe around him for a long time.

Blair continues, watching each of her words slice through him like a razor, watching as she makes yet more deep cuts.

You want me to be like you, she tells him. To sink into the darkness, but I never have been that person no matter how many times, how many ways, you have tried to make me in your image. And for some reason, I believed you, believed that I was so horrible, so twisted that I was ultimately unworthy of anything good in this life, but as much as I want to say you did this to me, as much as I want to blame, it was feeling so devoid of any worth that I had to run away that has made me understand that I am the only person who can be blamed. It was finally being truly loved by someone that has made me see...

...I don't know if I ever loved you...

The words feel so good to say. Chuck swallows and she can see his adams apple drift up and down.

...Blair...

His voice is raw and hoarse and he steps toward her, but Blair puts up her hand to stop him from coming any closer. She is done with this man, done with this entanglement and in with one swift cut she has freed herself. He cannot look at her, his eyes going to the floor, drifting around the room, but unable to settle on her face, and she knows she has finally gotten to him.

Blair laughs, a dry almost manic laugh and it sounds high pitched and tinny, and wants to tell him that the best part, the crowning moment of this mess, is that because of him, because of what he started years ago, because of all the unworthiness and self-hatred she lived with, Blair has walked away from the one person who is actually the love of her life. That no matter what happens now, Chuck may win anyway. She wants to run around the room and tear at her hair and do all kinds of crazy things because she's not sure if at this point she even has her sanity left. But she remains standing, remains still, like a statue, because Blair Waldorf is not done.

…you have had me in your grasp for years...

She is prone to dramatic gestures. Fucking Dan on the floor of his apartment and telling him she loves him then fleeing the country is just one of them. They are the kinds of things someone who lives in the realm of numbness does in an attempt to feel. In this way she and Chuck are the same, always trying to find the wrong ways to feell. She has risked her soul, but she never could really feel until now. And it wasn't anything dramatic that has brought it on. It's just realizing that she is finally free. Realizing that the only person who can truly define Blair is Blair herself, and it has taken both Dan and his unwavering support and Chuck trying to reel her back into his web of game-playing and deception, for her to realize that neither of them get to dictate who she is.

She is not Queen B. She is not Chuck's destiny. She is not Louis' princess. She's not even Dan's girlfriend. She is Blair. Blair Waldorf. Blair fucking Waldorf.

She is done.

Blair's eyes narrow and she sees for the first time how pathetic Chuck really is. He is someone who longs to belong but continually alienates everyone around him, and the saddest thing of all is that she knows she could have really loved him. If all the games could have been put aside and he could have let her into his heart, into the loneliness that has grown from abandonment, let her behind the facade that he'd carefully built up, let her see Charles, and not Chuck Bass, maybe they could have healed each other. It was getting glimpses through the cracks in his facade that had kept her by his side for so long, but she'd never been allowed in. They could have ruled the Upper East Side, the prince and princess of light and dark.

Blair cannot live in the world of What if. Not after all of this.

...get out...

Chuck lifts his head and finally looks at her, and for a moment she sees a vulnerable little boy who is facing rejection yet again, and Blair fights back the urge to reach out and smooth back the lock of hair that has fallen out of place, and for just a moment she thinks she might see tears. Then the moment is gone and Chuck Bass is back, as his lip curls and he hisses her name.

...Blair...

She says it again. Her voice is quiet and firm.

...get out...

Chuck doesn't move.

...you'll be back...

...you're mine...

Blair finally moves, walks past him to the door, the one she'd stared at for too long waiting for someone to save her when the answer had been in front of her the entire time. She puts her hand on the doorknob and pulls it open, the ancient hinges squeaking a little, then she stands there and says it again.

...get out...

She will not scream. She will not make a scene. She is done. Chuck blinks and then a foreign look crosses his face and there is a rare moment of resignation. He walks toward her then stops directly in front of her, leans forward and places a kiss on her cheek. His lips are cold and rough. Blair flinches.

...we're not done...

Blair says nothing, because those words are just words. She sees that now. Nothing more. Nothing less. They have no power. And they are done, no matter what Chuck says.

Chuck straightens up and squares his shoulders and walks through doorway into the gray, bleak hallway. He keeps walking, never looking back and Blair stares after him. Then she shuts the door and it clicks shut, and for the first time in a long time, Blair actually feels light. She stands there, breathing fast and shaking and then, out of nowhere, and she doesn't really know why, she laughs, a joyful, bellowing sound that fills the room, a laugh that fills her belly and and makes her shoulders shakes, one that sends tears cascading down her cheeks.

She laughs. A laugh that sparkles.


	4. Chapter 4

There is a late snow on the ground when Blair returns to the city. It crunches under her feet as she walks and she buries her face in the cashmere scarf Dorota shoved at her as she'd walked out of the penthouse.

Blair decided it was time to come home. After Chuck had left her standing in the middle of the cold, damp Prague apartment, after she had laughed until her sides hurt, and she wasn't entirely sure what was so funny, but it felt so good that she couldn't stop, Blair had realized that she was all alone, and being all alone wasn't making anything better. She had tried and failed.

She missed home.

She missed her bed and her cotton sheets, breakfast and late night bowls of popcorn. She missed lazy Sunday mornings reading the New York Times. She missed the rain in the city, the way the cabbies yelled at each other, the snow in Central Park.

She missed Dorota. No one had ever loved her like Dorota.

Blair was overcome with a wave of homesickness that almost bowled her over, and she wanted to find a phone, call Dorota, hear her voice telling her it was time to come home, and she knew that Dorota wouldn't lecture her or ask her questions but would just tell her that she was missed.

She still can't sleep. That hasn't changed since she left Prague. She walks the streets well past midnight and she sees worry creased on Dorota's face as she hovers, wrapped in her robe, rubbing sleep from her eyes as Blair pulls on her coat. Blair notices that her maid has been spending the night a lot lately, leaving Vanye and the kids home alone. There is no way to explain that Blair feels better with the shroud of night around her, with the anonymity darkness brings. Then she is like anyone else, or maybe like nobody else. In the least she is invisible.

Blair remembers another time, at least a lifetime ago. A boy in the foyer, looking nervous and biting his lip, a boy who tells her that he's been walking all night with one all consuming thought, and if she'd known then what she knows now, she would have just kept kissing him and never let him go.

...fool...

Now she walks. Footsteps echoing down the deserted streets. Ignoring the people sleeping on stoops and slumped by dumpsters because they remind her of Prague and the prostitutes and walking the streets at night, heartbroken.

...my heart is still so broken...

Her eyes always forward, not wanting to see. Somehow she always ends up home before the sun brightens everything around her, chasing away the hundreds of shades of gray, before the shops open and the delivery trucks clatter, and she sinks into her bed and sometimes she is finally able to sleep.

No one knows she's back. She flew into JFK in the middle of the night and made her way through the airport wearing a gigantic pair of knock-off sunglasses she'd bought from a street vendor as she waited on the sidewalk outside the Prague apartment, the rain spattering on the sidewalk and she wondered if that city ever saw sunshine. She had learned to hate all of its beauty and charm. All it felt like was oppression.

It would have been hard to recognize Blair Waldorf anyway. She wasn't the girl who has posed for photographs and made the front page of the tabloids, New York's very own princess. She was thinner and paler, and there were dark circles under her eyes, and she hadn't bothered to do anything with her hair, and that girl would have never been caught in a pair of faux designer sunglasses anyway.

...decoy...

Blair remembers that day in the airport, Dan by her side like he always was, trying to convince the world that she wasn't the runaway princess bride, and she thinks she's actually become her own decoy, a faux Blair Waldorf. It's kind of amusing.

Dorota has been in mother hen mode since her return, clucking at her to eat more, plying her with traditional Polish soups thick with barley, chunks of sausage floating in them, telling he that she needs more meat on her bones. Blair eats small bites and smiles and thanks Dorota profusely, telling her that she does indeed feel better. She thinks the soup would probably be delicious if Blair could taste anything.

She tries not to think about him. The boy she came back for, the one she left behind, and she wonders if she has finally managed to use up all of her goodwill. Has she finally made him hate her as much as she hates herself. Sometimes she entertains calling the town car and directing it to Brooklyn, finding the spare key and sitting on the couch until Dan opens the door and finds her sitting there, and she thinks that she's strong enough to handle his righteous anger. She thinks he would tell her that she had broken him, wounded him, left him bleeding, metaphorically speaking, and Blair would say nothing, because everything she imagines him saying would be the truth. Then she could stand up and smooth out her dress, and maybe there would be a single, solitary tear that would streak down her cheek, because that might be all she has left, and she would let him go.

At least then it would all be over.

...finally...

Sometimes she thinks she's strong enough. But then it would be over, and she's not sure that's what she really wants.

It's ironic, Blair thinks, that she has finally found herself and now she feels more lost than ever, or maybe the way she feels is stuck. She can't go back to Prague. She can't run away again. She can't go forward. So she walks and walks, not sure if she walking away from something or walking towards it, or maybe just walking in place, stuck on some sort of metaphoric treadmill.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Everything had become amazingly wonderfully fucked up.

Chuck hasn't tried to contact her, and she's not even sure if he stayed in Eastern Europe or returned to New York. Blair is grateful for the silence, just like she's grateful for the quiet as she walks the streets at night, because that's the only time she can stop all the voices in her head and really think. She doesn't need anything else to distort at the moment. Especially not Chuck Bass.

Still, she doesn't know if he's actually let her go, if he has cut those ties or if he's still wanting to bind her, to suffocate her, to possess her, like he always has wanted to. She doesn't know if he will reappear, twisting her up inside, confusing things, still trying to find ways to knit her to him forever. Blair is sure that she was clear with him, yet he walked away not understanding they were done, and she didn't know when he might materialize, a spector from her past, haunting her, as if she isn't haunted enough by herself.

She can't think about it too much. The thoughts threaten to crush her so she brushes them away, pushes them to the back of her mind, into the dark corners, the ones she can't quite manage to sweep away.

Darkness is always going to be part of her.

What Blair has come to realize is that it her dark parts are part of her, parts she has to learn to live with. Since she walked away she's come to understand that life isn't about choosing either or. It's not about Chuck vs. Dan. It's about Blair and learning to live with herself, learning how to see herself as someone of worth.

It's so hard. Sometimes she feels like she's going to fall back over the cliff, plunge back into the dark abyss that had almost swallowed her whole, and that's when she jerks awake from some form of fitful sleep and throws on her coat and goes out and walks. As if she can somehow outdistance her demons, outlast them. As if they will get tired and lag behind her and then she will be free.

There is only one way to be free, and she cannot just walk away from all of her troubles no matter how hard she tries. Blair hasn't found a way to do what she knows she needs to do.

She needs to heal the cut. She needs to make the repair, stitch by stitch, but she can't make herself take those steps. It's easy to walk and walk, easy to step forward one foot after another, but the step of seeing him, to confront the betrayal and hatred Dan must hold for her after what she's done. That is a step she is unable to make.

...still...

She needs to see him. She aches to see him.

The wind picks up and Blair shivers a little and hunches further down. The snow is dry and it swirls in patterns in front of her, the lamp posts making flickering pools of light on the sidewalk. She moves in and out of the light, weaving her way in the darkness between, a slight figure steeling herself against another gust.

The thing that she doesn't admit to herself is the real reason she doesn't want to see him. Because once she does, there will be nothing left. You don't pick up the pieces and move forward when you do what she has done. You let them lie on the ground and you learn to live with the puzzle they create. Something that was once whole and good has become shards that cannot be put back together, and Blair doesn't want to admit this truth. As long as she stays away from Dan she can pretend that maybe, possibly, there is a chance that she could be forgiven. But how can she even ask for forgiveness when she can barely forgive herself. She doesn't know the answer to this question.

A truck clatters down the street and Blair realizes that if she walks much longer she'll end up watching the gray sky lighten up, and maybe the sun will find a way to peek through the clouds, and it's time to get home, so she stops and turns around, then heads back toward the penthouse.

Maybe she'll be able to sleep when she gets back.

Dorota will be up when she returns. With Blair back and so strange, Dorota has taken to getting up early to greet her. There will be a hot cup of coffee and Blair will drink it black, just like she did in Prague, and it will remind her of the rain on the windowpane, watching it hit and spatter then run down the wavy glass in long streams. Then she'll go upstairs, slowly, her steps weary, her soul tired, and she'll crawl into bed and close her eyes and maybe Dan won't be there this time, and maybe she'll manage to not let those words pass her lips that she whispers every time she sees him in her dreams.

...I love you...

The doorman nods at her, never showing any judgement toward Blair's newly gained nocturnal ways, just smiles and opens the door. She pushes the button on the elevator and waits as it clicks its way down towards her.

...I will always love you...

Blair leans her head on the wood panelling of the elevator and it feels cool on her skin, and she tries to fight back the tears that have been gathering behind her eyes, tries to push back the melancholy.

...even if you don't love me back...

She is sad. Every part of her feels sad. It radiates from her heart through her bones. It creeps up on her and makes her cry in the middle of the night as she walks, her tears freezing as they roll down her cheeks.

The elevator doors slide open and just as she expected, Dorota is there, and Blair realizes that the doorman must ring up to the penthouse every time she comes home. She is frowning a little and saying something about Miss Blair being too cold, and helping her out of her coat. Blair smiles a little then turns toward the dining room where she knows the coffee is waiting, thinking how the fine bone china cup will feel warm on her chilled hands when she stops and stares.

Dorota tells her they came this morning. They are long and tall, elegant, a deep, rich shade of purple, the color of royalty. Dew clings to them, and Blair knows that a good florist would mist their flowers right before delivering. Dorota has placed them in a heavy crystal vase. Two dozen long-stemmed roses and next to them sits a card.

No one knows she's back. But one person knew that she was in Prague and he would know where she went if she wasn't there anymore. Only one person would find purple roses in the middle of the winter, a person prone to big, romantic gestures.

Blair doesn't want to open the card. She wants to walk away from them and pretend they aren't sitting in her foyer. Instead she takes the envelope with trembling fingers and rips it open. She scans it and suddenly she can't take a breath, and it feels like she's underwater.

...he's still trying to find you. go find him instead...

Chuck has let her go.


	5. Chapter 5

Blair can't move.

She is frozen, standing with the card between her fingers, the words on it repeating over and over in her head, and she can still see Chuck's scrawling handwriting.

...he's let me go...

chuckandblairblairandchuck are finally over.

She should leave. She should turn and walk back into the elevator, go down to the street and blink in the filtered morning light as she stands on the sidewalk waiting for the car to pull around and then tell the driver to go straight to Brooklyn. Instead she remains standing in the foyer, unable to move.

...Miss Blair...

Dorota's is concerned and her hand is on Blair's arm and Blair flinches a little at her unexpected touch.

...you love him...

Dorota, eternal voice of reason. She's not talking about Chuck, she's never talked about Chuck, she's talking about Dan and Blair can only nod as her eyes fill up with tears.

I do love him, she whispers.

How could he still be looking for her, how after she'd fucked him and left him and made sure he could never find her. Why would he still want her after that? This wasn't part of the plan.

...then go...

Blair blinks at Dorota's words then closes her eyes tightly as if that can ward off the pain that is starting to well up from somewhere deep inside. Just like that? Go. Is it that simple?

Maybe.

After all this time and so many complexities, maybe the answer has always been something simple: she loves him. Maybe loving someone is enough and Blair realizes that simply loving her is what Dan has been doing all along, and she wonders why she made something so easy so complicated.

She wants to tell Dorota that she's scared, that being numb is better than the pain she feels like she's always keeping at bay. But Blair has come to realize that she hurt Dan not to protect him, not to keep him from her darkness, and not to set him free. She hurt him because he could hurt her. Not just hurt her, destroy her, and she made the deep cuts she made because that way he wouldn't do the same to her. Because the only outcome of their relationship was Dan Humphrey eventually realizing who Blair really was, realizing that she had no light, no sparkle, and then it would be over. Better to end things on her own terms. Better to hurt him first.

She did it for herself.

Blair opens her eyes.

...fool...

The word is a whisper and Dorota looks confused. Then Blair is grabbing her coat and rushing back into the elevator and frantically pushing the button to send it to the first floor over and over because all of the sudden she can't get to Brooklyn fast enough. She repeats that word, muttering to no one in particular and maybe Dorota thinks she has finally gone crazy.

...such a fool such a fool I've been such a fool...

Finally the doors slide shut and Blair leans against the wall of the elevator and realizes that she's breathing hard and shaking and she hopes she can pull things together because she's about to find out if her life ends today or if there might be some sliver of hope.

The ride to Brooklyn is too long and it gives Blair enough time to really wonder what the hell she's doing, enough time to lose some of her determination, and she's still holding the card in her hand, so she reads it over and over, holding onto the hope that comes with Chuck's words.

...he's still trying to find you...

Maybe Dan is the fool because if he's still trying to find her after what she's done, he must like the pain almost as much as she's learned to over all these years. He must not have figured out that he was supposed to be hurt enough to let her go and move on, that her cruelty was an unusual gift. Blair closes her eyes and wishes the driver would go faster, and she imagines how idiotic Dan is if he has been trying to find her, if he was left with anything but despair when she walked out, and the idea that loving her isn't something Dan will walk away from even in the most dire of circumstances makes Blair feel like she may have never truly loved anyone until this very moment.

...fools, we're both such fools...

The car finally pulls up in front of the loft and Blair sits for a moment, not moving, feeling small and terrified, then she grabs the door handle and pushes the door open, the cold morning air hits her face. She's standing on the sidewalk and she's still shaking, and she's staring up at the windows of the loft and in the dim morning light she can see that the windows are still dark. He's probably still asleep.

She wants to turn around, to tell the driver to take her home, to run away. It takes all of her strength not to leave.

...no...

This is simple, she tells herself. You love him. Blair takes a deep breath, filling her lungs with air and determination, and walks toward the stoop. Then she is inside the building and climbing the stairs, and she doesn't stop, doesn't hesitate. She whispers under her breath, telling herself over and over that she can do this. The time to turn back has passed. She stops outside the door to the loft, but only to fumble around the doorjamb until she finds the spare key and Blair smiles a little because some things never change.

The loft is quiet, and a little unkempt, with takeout containers on the kitchen counter and newspapers on the coffee table. Dan's laptop is sitting open on the couch and there are dishes in the sink. It's foreign and familiar at the same time and Blair remembers that she'd had moments of being happy here. Yes, she'd been happy with Dan. Happier than she'd remember being with anyone else, so why did she decide to go and ruin it?

...selfish...

Blair doesn't like her own answer to her own question.

Blair's shoes click sharply across the tile floor and she takes off her coat and drops it on one of the chairs, not caring that it lands in a heap. Without stopping she makes her way down the hallway and finds the door to Dan's bedroom. She hesitates just a little, maybe afraid of what she'll find, or who she'll find, but if someone is sleeping next to Dan, she can handle that. Then she can turn and walk away because she'll know he's going to be okay, that he's actually been able to move on, that Chuck was wrong.

The door squeaks a little as she pushes it open and he's there, lying sprawled across the bed, the sheets down around his hips, his face buried in a pillow and she can only see his curly mop of hair, sticking up in all directions. She stares at him for a moment, listening to his breathing in the silence, like she has done so many times before, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest, taking in the shape of his shoulders underneath the black t-shirt he often wears to bed.

I am home, Blair thinks to herself. This is home.

Blair swallows hard because she doesn't know what's going to happen next.

She quietly kicks off her shoes, then her fingers go to the buttons on her dress and she undoes them one by one and quickly shrugs it off. She reaches around to her back and unlatches her bra, and shivers a little and remembers that the loft heating has never been that great. She slips her thick winter tights and panties down her hips and then she's naked and padding toward the bed, her skin covered with goosebumps. Blair smooths her hair nervously, as if what she looks like at the moment really matters, but old habits die hard, and lifts the covers. She slips next to him, pressing herself close to him, whispering his name, and he's warm next to her, so warm on her chilled skin, and Blair realizes that she's missed this so much, and that she's been cold for such a long time.

Dan stirs a little in his sleep and he mumbles something and she thinks it might have been her name, but Blair isn't sure, so she nestles closer and his hand is moving up her hip now, searing a path across her skin, and it's like in her dreams, the ones that didn't end with her waking up, yelling his name, reaching out for him when he wasn't there. The good dreams that had become so rare. His eyes are closed, his lashes thick and dark against his cheeks, and he's still asleep so she leans forward and presses her lips to his and kisses him.

...Blair...

His voice is gravelly and rough from sleep and he's kissing her back and that's when Blair realizes she's been crying because her cheeks are wet, and his lips taste like salt, then she kisses him again, her lips lingering on his for a moment, memorizing how they feel because this might be all she will ever have.

...I'm so sorry so sorry I'm so sorry...

She can't stop saying the words between kisses. His arm is pulling her to him now, smashing her against his chest and the kiss deepens, her mouth opening more, drinking him in, and it's sad and slow, and she wonders if he thinks he's dreaming. He pulls back and she sees that his eyes are wide open and surprised, then he leans toward her again and mumbles something.

...can't stop...

Then don't stop, Blair thinks. Never stop. Let's stay like this, right here, forever.

Dan kisses her again, this time with more desperation, like she might disappear, and his hips are pushing against her, and he's hard, and Blair wants everything to speed up because suddenly she is threaded with heat and desire and maybe even straight up animal lust, and every part of her aches for him, and she needs him to fuck her right now, or maybe yesterday, otherwise she might scream. She rips her mouth from his and bites at his collarbone urgently as her hands go to his hips, pulling frantically at his boxers and Dan is pulling off his t-shirt and then they are finally skin on skin and Blair has missed this so much.

He is rolling on top of her, and not carefully or gingerly, crushing her a little with his weight, and Blair doesn't care, just spreads her legs and lets him settle in between them while she finds his mouth with hers again, and then he's inside her and his hips are moving and she's still crying and she feels everything start to build up and tighten and she comes, her fingers digging into his back, and he's grunting her name and bucking against her, and then he collapses on her, sweaty and panting softly, and Blair can't say anything, just lies there, not able to look at him, breathing hard.

...Blair...

He says her name again and this time it's harsh, spit out into the silence of the room and Blair closes her eyes. Suddenly she wants to return to the mode of fuck and run, but she doesn't move, just lies there, because this is what she came here for. Not for an early morning reunion fuck. She came here for the anger. She steels herself for what she knows is about to happen, and maybe she'll end up alone when everything that needs to be said is finally laid out in no uncertain terms, but she's accepted that.

Dan rolls off her and she hears him sigh, and when Blair finally gets the courage to turn over and face him, he's lying with his arm covering his eyes, and all she wants to do is tell him that she loves him, but she still says nothing. Then Dan laughs and it startles Blair, but she still doesn't move, just waits.

...what the fuck...

Blair sits up and saying nothing, she slides out of bed and walks across the room toward her pile of clothes. Then she musters up enough courage to speak and when she does her voice sounds squeaky and strange.

...I'm sorry...

It's all she has left to say. There is no explanation that is worth telling him. There is no way to justify why she walked away. All she can do is tell him that she's sorry. The words are simple, raw and truthful, and she stops, standing naked in the middle of his bedroom, her back toward him, her arms hugging herself, and she can't bear to take another step forward any more than she can bear to turn around. She wants it to be over, for the silence to end. She wants him to yell and tell her that she's a bitch for leaving him like that, but he says nothing. She starts to shake and Blair isn't sure she can take this much longer, when she feels his arms come around her, wrapping her tightly

...don't leave me, not again...


	6. Chapter 6

Blair lets her entire weight fall back onto Dan as her legs give out from underneath her. His arms tighten around her and she slowly sinks to the floor, her hands coming up to her mouth to muffle the cry that has been ripped from deep inside her. His mouth is by her ear and as they huddle together, naked, in the middle of his bedroom, Blair not even noticing if she is hot or cold, he is whispering in her ear, over and over.

...not again, never again...

This was not what she had expected.

Everything comes pouring out, all the shame and self-hatred, and she can't stop crying, can't stop the river of emotion that she has been holding back for so long.

His hands are smoothing her hair and rubbing her back and now she is cradled in his lap with her arms around his neck and her face buried in his chest, and he smells so good, which is a strange thing to notice when you're essentially having the biggest emotional breakdown of your life, but Blair has learned that these small things pop out at the oddest times, tattooing themselves onto her memory.

He should hate her, should tell her in unequivocal terms to leave and never return. That was why she had crawled into bed and fucked him, because Blair needed something to hold onto, one last memory she could secret away, something to keep for herself, because she knew how this would end.

..selfish...

The tears are slowing and Blair's eyes feel puffy and swollen, and she squeezes them shut and stays with her face buried in his chest, not wanting to look up and meet his gaze, afraid of what she'll see in his eyes. All of her bravado has melted away and she is left with nothing but her soul bared for Dan to pick apart, and she's not sure she'll survive this. She's not sure she can handle him sending her away, and even though he's kept her from walking out, it could just be so he can exact the same amount of pain she's already taken from him.

...you will destroy me...

The words are muffled and she doesn't think he hears them, but they are words she's said before, and now she knows they are true no matter what. If he walks away, she will not survive. If he actually stays, she will be reduced to ashes, and Blair doesn't know if anything will be able to rise from the wreckage.

Dan pulls back from her and suddenly she is gazing into those eyes, the ones that have haunted her dreams and what she sees there is unexpected. They are filled with love.

...then it will be the end of both of us...

He did hear her and Blair swallows as she digests his words, and for the first time she understands that they are in this world together, that they have both paid, that they have become the same. They both carry scars from deep cuts.

How the hell could he love her? How did the universe flow in a manner that ended up with her here and Dan loving her, in spite of herself.

...I don't understand...

He says nothing, just struggles to his feet, then Dan reaches down and scoops her into his arms and carries her back to his bed, and with each step he takes his head comes down and kisses her gently. Then she is encased in a down comforter and he's behind her, snug against her back and so warm, and his arms are wrapped around her, holding her tightly and Blair suddenly feels all the weariness and insomnia of the last few months catch up with her and she is so deeply tired.

...sleep, we have time...

Her eyes start to flutter shut and Blair thinks about those words. They have time, but she doesn't know why, and she wants to ask him, but her mind is drifting away and foggy and she can't seem to make her mouth form words and then she starts to slip away into the darkness, and Blair finally sleeps.

She is alone when she wakes up, and for a moment Blair panics and she can't quite figure out where she is, if she's home or in Prague, and everything feels unfamiliar, then she starts to recognize her surroundings. She sees the books piled high on the floor and the papers scattered here and there, and there is a pile of clothes on a chair across the room and the air has that musty smell of sleep.

Brooklyn.

Blair sits up and rubs her eyes, then stretches a little, flexes her toes, makes sure her muscles are still in working order, and she feels stiff and a little achey. She looks around, realizing that she's naked and vaguely remembers arriving here dressed, but that seems like a lifetime ago, and her clothes are nowhere to be found. She swings her legs out of bed, walks across the room to the dresser and, pulling a drawer open, finds a t-shirt and a pair of ratty sweats that she pulls on, not caring that she practically swims in them.

Dan greets her when she walks into the living room. He is sitting on the couch, his laptop balanced on his lap, and he looks up and says a strangely casual 'good morning', and if Blair didn't know better they could be any boring couple on any boring day.

She settles down next to him, keeping her distance, not touching him, because despite what has happened, Blair is still not clear where they stand. Dan asks if she's hungry and at that moment Blair's stomach growls and she realizes she is ravenous.

...yes...

Its the first thing she's said since she got up.

He puts his laptop on the coffee table and stands up, then walks toward the kitchen. He opens the refrigerator, telling her he doesn't have much but he could make her some eggs, and Blair nods her agreement to his plan. She pulls a blanket that has been slung over the back of the couch and wraps it around her, then allows herself the luxury of watching Dan as he works in the kitchen. Fifteen minutes later he is setting a plate of scrambled eggs and toast with some slices of orange and a cup of coffee on the counter, and for the first time he smiles at her, and Blair smiles back. She gets up from the couch and walks over to the counter, sliding onto one of the stools and starts to eat.

It's good. It might be the best thing she's ever tasted and Blair shovels the warm food into her mouth like she's been starving, and then she thinks that starving isn't far from the truth on so many levels. Dan just stands on the other side of the counter, watching her eat, his eyes never leaving her, and she tells him that it's good.

After the food is gone and her stomach feels full, Blair realizes that she has no idea what time it is, or what day it is, and that's when Dan tells her that she's been sleeping for almost two days.

...you were tired...

Blair nods. It's the truth. She feels like she hasn't slept since the day she walked out of the loft, leaving Dan and everything else behind, so she's not surprised to hear that she collapsed. Dan says he tried to wake her a couple times, but then figured that she just needed to sleep, so he's been sleeping on the couch, letting her have the bed.

...thank you...

It's the first of the one million thank yous she owes this man.

Blair picks at the fabric of the t-shirt she's wearing and looks down at the counter, because there is something else she wants to ask him, but she doesn't know where to start or how to say it, and finally she musters up enough courage to blurt out the question that has been hanging over her ever since he stopped her from walking away two nights ago.

...how can you not hate me...

Dan doesn't say anything and she sees a muscle tremor as his jaw clenches and unclenches, and she knows that what she has done to him is far from over, that even if he doesn't hate her, forgiveness may be a long ways away.

...I did hate you...

He is still on the other side of the counter, as if distance can make what he's saying to her a little easier, and he won't look at her as he spits out the words. Dan tells her that when he woke up the next morning and she was gone, and no matter who he talked to, no one knew where she could be found, that he'd hated her. He had promised himself that if he ever found her that he would tell her to get out of his life, that he would find a way to make her pay. Blair winces at his words, at the anger she sees on his face as he tells her about the destruction she'd left in her wake.

He tells her that there is a big part of him that is still angry, that will never understand why she walked away, because all he's ever wanted is to love her in the way she deserves to be loved. As his words sink in, Blair feels tears well up again, and she squeezes her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry, and she wonders if there will ever be a time that the sadness doesn't feel so fresh and close to the surface. He tells her that despite all of this, he still tried to find her, because he needed to know why, to at least find some closure.

...then he called me a couple days ago...

Blair's eyes fly open.

...who...

Chuck, Dan tells her. Chuck Bass called him and he almost didn't pick up because Chuck was the last person he wanted to talk to, but he did, and Chuck has asked him to just listen, so against his better judgement, Dan had listened.

...he really loves you...

It was his final act, falling on his sword, making a break so clean that he could never go back, and Chuck had decided that Dan needed to know that the reason Blair had left was because she loved him too much, so much that she couldn't handle it, so much that she was living in fear of losing him. Blair nods and realizes that she'd never known how well Chuck knew her, and she feels sad for what might have been if things had worked out differently.

Now she is crying, and Dan finally comes around the counter and wraps his arms around her and tells her that it's going to be okay, and they are silent for a moment.

...the thing is, I love you...

Dan is talking again, his voice muffled in her hair. He tells her that after talking to Chuck enough of the anger slipped away for him to see that no matter what happened, he would never stop loving her, that what had happened did not change that immutable fact, so when he'd woken up to find her in his bed, all he could feel was relief.

...you came back...

Blair knows coming back doesn't erase the past and she knows that it will take a long time for the fear and betrayal she sees in Dan's eyes when he looks at her to be even mostly gone. She knows that they will need to rebuild the trust that that she stole from them when she walked away, but for the first time she thinks that she might be able to do this.

...I don't deserve you...

Her voice is small and tenuous and Dan pulls back and looks at her, studying her face, and for a moment she can see that pure and simple love that she has longed for radiating from him.

...you're so wrong...

He tells her that she deserves everything he can give, because he sees her for who she is, not what she does, and Blair starts to understand that she can both be a person worthy of this kind of love and act like a person worthy of this kind of love, and those two things aren't mutually exclusive. She starts to understand that this is the path to forever banish the darkness, that love will save her but only because she now knows she can save herself. She starts to see a way to move forward.

Dan is still looking at her, not saying anything and Blair blinks back the tears, then brings her hands up to cradle his face between them.

A look of relief washes over his face and in that moment they both know this is forever, that they will be together from now on, and Blair will fight her demons and learn to love herself because he loves her and that is everything she needs. She will learn to sparkle.

Dan is kissing her now, his lips soft and sweet and a little hesitant, and Blair is kissing him back, lingering with each kiss, memorizing how he feels, sucking on his bottom lip, liking the way it makes him moan, then pulling back and letting him lean in and kiss her again, asking for more, and then she breaks away and his forehead is against hers, his mouth open and wanting more, and Blair tells him what she's been wanting to tell him for too long, and this time she means it for the rest of her life.

..Dan Humphrey, I love you...

He smiles and it fills up his entire face, and he leans down and kisses her again, slowly, lingering, like he never wants this moment to end, and Blair knows she certainly doesn't, and part of her wishes she could freeze time. Then he whispers in her ear what she's wanted to hear again for so long.

...I love you too...

~fin~


End file.
